Swerto, a prisoner joins the tournament for a chance to life. Soon he finds he has more than he needed to bargain with and is put through serious tests in some of the toughest matches he has ever fought

"In 2291, in an attempt to control violence among deep space
minersthe New Earth Government legalized no-holds-bared fighting.

Liandri Mining Corporation, working with the NEG,established
a series of leagues and bloody public exhibitions.

The fight's popularity grew with their brutality.Soon, Liandri
discovered that the public matches were their most profitable
enterprise

The professional league was formed;a cabal of the most
violent and skilled warriors in known space,selected to fight in
a Grand Tournament.

Now it is 2341, 50 years have passed since founding of
Deathmatch.Profits from the Tournament number in the hundreds of
billions.

You have been selected to fight in the professional leagueby
the Liandri Rules Board. Your strength and brutality are legendary.

The time has come to prove you are the best-to crush your
enemies-to win the Tournament."

– Unreal Tournament, Epic Games 1999

Chapter
1: The Past and the Present

It
was 2332, and there was no room for mistake. Swerto stepped forward,
flak cannon in hand. He lifted the heavy orange weapon and slowly
turned looking at the surrounding area. Around him were crates and
many sliding doorways. He was in a warehouse, a perfect place for an
amateur tournament to take place.

Deathmatch
was the name of the game, it required Swerto to either kill the other
person, or make it to where they couldn't fight anymore. Deathmatch
was legalized 41 years earlier by the NEG, a move that was meant to
bring peace. Instead all Deathmatch brought was a blood sport to
fight in, much like the gladiator arena's of old.

Swerto's
opponent in this match was an ex-soldier for the NEG, a Thundercrash
elite. His name was Malcolm and he was quickly earning his fame.
Swerto respected him, but didn't like him one bit. Standing at six
feet, Malcolm stood almost eye to eye with Swerto, something that
would intimidate most people given Swerto's build.

Deathmatch
wasn't a sport for heroes, or people who had a powerful conscience.
The people who played the sport weren't even, par se, but they
weren't necessarily good either. It took a person who was willing
to kill others for sport to fight in the tourney. The biggest problem
with the amateurs, unlike the professional league, there was no way
to "re-spawn". The process of quickly cloning a persons body and
conscience and teleporting it into the arena was extremely expensive.

Swerto
wasn't evil, nor was he good. He was pretty much the same as
everyone else who joined the tournament. He wanted a place in the
universe. Not being the most intelligent person, or the most skilled
with most job worthy things, Swerto had no niche. He found his
calling in the violent blood sport he was now playing.

At
a little over six feet tall Swerto was definitely over average height
for a teenager. He had little to fear about being menacing, he was
sure he would grow more muscular over the years. Swerto wasn't
small, but he wasn't overly large either. Swerto was moderately
built, With his dark as night hair Swerto would one day look menacing
if he wanted to.

Swerto
turned around again and took another sweep of the area, his light
armor allowed him to move quickly, but gave barely any protection
against weapons used in the tourney. He heard a noise behind him and
quickly spun to meet it.

Running
toward him from the other side of the warehouse was Malcolm. He was
wearing his green military armor and sunglasses. His skin was a dark
color, in times long past would have been called African. In his
hands he was carrying two enforcers, a high caliber semi-automatic
handgun.

Swerto turned and jumped behind a crate before Malcolm could get a
shot off. He slid around the corner and took a shot at Malcolm. The
soldier jumped behind a different crate similarly and took cover.
Swerto looked for a way out of the standoff and saw a path leading
around the corner, hopefully to the direction Malcolm came from. It
was his best chance, Swerto quickly stood up and shot a few flak
rounds in Malcolm's general direction. As he rounded the corner
Swerto looked directly at a dead end.

Not wanting to waste any time he quickly turned back around and
started shooting more shells through the doorway. Swerto ran through
and jumped behind the crate. When he didn't hear any fire being
returned he slowly looked around the corner. He didn't see any sign
of Malcolm. Swerto stood up and ran around the crate Malcolm was
taking cover behind and saw that there was a hole in the floor behind
it. Swerto cursed and ran back across the room where he knew a sniper
rifle was stashed.

Behind a large crate there was an empty space where a rifle once sat.
Swerto cursed again and stood back up thinking. As he turned around
Swerto already knew he was going to have some problems. Prone in
between some boxes Malcolm had the rifle and was aiming it directly
at Swerto. Malcolm pulled the trigger and sent a fifty caliber round
across the warehouse. The round went directly into Swerto's knee
and out the other end.

The lower half of Swerto's leg detached from the rest of his body
and fell to the floor. Swerto quickly fell in the other direction
cursing. Swerto grabbed at the bloody stump dropping his weapon. The
pain was excruciating, like nothing Swerto had ever felt in his
sixteen years of life. He quickly slipped out of consciousness.

Swerto
woke up on a cold cot in a large white room. He looked down at his
left leg and saw a mechanical replacement. Swerto cursed again to
himself, this had probably cost his family a fortune. He had already
distanced himself from most of his relatives from his career choice.
He didn't need any more problems with them, he didn't want any
either.

Swerto
sat up and looked around the white room, there was nobody in sight.
As he slowly turned and got off the cot he quickly noticed the weight
of his new leg., what he didn't expect was how easy it was to move.
The teenage gladiator quickly walked across the room, the leg almost
felt natural, except for the fact that he didn't feel anything that
it touched. He turned and walked out of the room and looked around
for the doctor. When he found him Swerto quickly checked out and
left.

Swerto
had a thirst for vengeance and needed to quench it with Malcolm's
blood. Swerto headed to the only place in the colony he knew Malcolm
would be at after a victory like that. When he arrived at the bar
Swerto got out of his ride and walked inside. On this far reach of
civilization the fact that he was under the legal drinking age didn't
matter, what did was that he was carrying weapons.

As
soon as he walked in two large men showed up in front of Swerto. Both
of them looked like they were ready for business, but so was Swerto.
Swerto grabbed at both thighs where head two enforcers in holsters.
He pulled them up with lightning fast speed and pointed them at both
the bouncers craniums.

"Tell
me, where is Malcolm… I have a present for him." Swerto said
cracking a sinister grin at one of the bouncers.

"Listen
kid, we don't want trouble… just turn around and we'll forget
you ever came in here." The first bouncer said. Swerto slightly
tightened his finger around the trigger enough to be noticed but not
make the gun fire.

"Where
is Malcolm." Swerto repeated calmly, he was no longer grinning.

"He's
in the private lounge in the back," The second bouncer said looking
a little scared. He slowly raised his hand to reveal he also had an
enforcer. "But you won't be seeing him anytime soon."

'Wrong
answer," Swerto said and tightened both of his fighters. Red clouds
of blood brain matter appeared behind the men's heads. Swerto moved
the barrels of the weapons off of the corpses as the fell forward
revealing large exit wounds in the backs of the heads. Swerto ran
forward through panicking patrons toward the private lounge in the
back.

Swerto
kicked down the door and jumped through the open doorway. He looked
around and saw an empty room except for one man, Malcolm. Malcolm had
an enforcer of his own in his hand and had it pointed directly at
Swerto's head. He motioned for Swerto to lower his weapons.

"Kid,
get out of here. I didn't want to kill you earlier, and I don't
want to kill you now." Malcolm said slightly lowering the weapon.
Swerto raised both enforcers and fired a shot at Malcolm. Malcolm
quickly took cover behind a large lounge chair.

"Wrong
move kid, have fun in prison. Malcolm stood up and tossed the
enforcer with blinding speed directly at Swerto. It hit him directly
in the forehead and knocked him back. The heavy weapon nearly knocked
him out on contact, but Swerto mustered enough strength to stay
conscious. He tried to raise his weapons again but saw multiple rifle
barrels pointing directly at him. He looked up to see six NEG
officers holding weapons pointed directly at him. Swerto cursed one
last time before he got carried off.

Nine
Years Later…

Prison
life wasn't horrible, if you weren't a teenager. Not being a
legal adult didn't stop the judge from slapping two consecutive
life sentences on him for double homicide. He hadn't even heard
from any of his family the entire time he was here. His first year in
prison Swerto was caught in a fight and killed another prisoner when
he took it too far, for that he was put in solitary confinement for
the remainder of his first sentence.

Solitary
confinement wasn't bad either, but it did get lonely. In a ten by
ten foot room with no windows or source of light Swerto quickly began
to miss outside life. He hated solitary confinement, he hated prison.

He
had been in prison for nine years today. Nine years in the maximum
security NEG prison does stuff to people, things that aren't good.
Swerto was well out of his teens now at 25. Swerto rarely ever saw
the sunlight, the last time he saw it was a month ago when he was
taken outside for his annual recreation time. Swerto spent it staring
at the sky for six hours, something others would consider wasting.

But
now sitting in a dark room on a cold cot with no source of light, the
memory of the sky was enough to keep hold of his sanity. Swerto had
no doubts that he would spend the rest of his life here, he only
wished he had finished the job so there would be enough reason to
spend it here.

Swerto
stood up and walked toward the door and put his ear to it. He heard
some voices through the metal slit that was used to put food in.
Suddenly the door began to open and Swerto slid back a few feet. In
walked a man in a red formal suit. He was carrying a large black
briefcase. He closed the door behind him and looked at Swerto.

"You
must be Swerto, it's a pleasure to meet you." He said raising his
hand.

"Who's
asking" Swerto said in a quiet menacing voice.

"Oh,
quite careful are we? Oh its to be expected. I am a representative
from the Liandri corporation. I have a proposition for you," He
said smirking.

"Continue,"
Swerto said slowly waving his hand.

"As
you know, the Grand Tournament is always looking for new talent. If
I'm not mistaken you were in a minor league before you were
convicted, in the same minor league as the Thundercrash soldier
Malcolm, It was because of this, and the action you took after your
loss to Malcolm that I took interest in you. We've decided to give
you a quick chance to get out of prison and into the tournament."
The man said smiling once more. He turned around and walked out of
the room leaving the door open.

After a few minutes Swerto noticed the door was still open. He stood
up and walked toward the open doorway and looked out. He didn't see
any guards down the large hallway that he was at the end of. Swerto
looked at the ground and saw three things, an ASMD Shock Rifle, a
Flak Cannon, and a Ripper.. Next to them there was a small radio
headset. Swerto put it on and spoke into it.

"Hello?" he said clearly.

"Oh why hello there," the mans voice answered, "This is simple
you see. You are in a maximum security prison, I have given you three
weapons with limited ammunition . If you get out alive you are in the
Tournament, but before you get excited, there are worse things you'll
fight on your way out than simple security guards. I'll wait for
you at the only way in or out of the prison with your release papers.
Don't keep me waiting, or I might just change my mind." The man
said clearly back. Swerto heard a click and knew the man had turned
off the radio.

Swerto pulled off the headset and threw it to the side. "Well here
goes nothing" Swerto said unenthusiastically. He picked up the
Ripper and shock rifle and put them over his shoulder. He then picked
up the Flak Cannon and took a step forward.

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